


Touch Has A Memory

by regent



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Recovery, Touch Therapy, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 15:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2274354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regent/pseuds/regent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky's so used to touch only bringing pain. He's forgotten that a hand coming towards his face does not always constitute an attack. The first time Steve reaches to curl a hand around the back of Bucky's neck ("Just for a hug, Buck. God, I'm so sorry, I should've warned you"), Bucky flinches, jerks back. He has to relearn everything. He has to relearn touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch Has A Memory

**Author's Note:**

> title is shamelessly ripped off from john keats because it applies to bucky's life too well

Bucky's so used to touch only bringing pain. He's forgotten that a hand coming towards his face does not always constitute an attack. The first time Steve reaches to curl a hand around the back of Bucky's neck ("Just for a hug, Buck. God, I'm so sorry, I should've warned you"), Bucky flinches, jerks back. He has to relearn everything. He has to relearn touch.

Steve helps. He's good at telegraphing his movements, letting Bucky see where he's going to reach, where he's going to touch. After a while, he doesn't have to anymore. Bucky trusts Steve's touches. He trusts that Steve's hands won't bring him pain, or an attack that requires an active defense. After a while, Bucky learns to relax. He learns that not only can he trust Steve's touches, he can enjoy them.

The first time Bucky realizes he can take pleasure in a touch is the day Steve slides a hand through his hair and gives his head an affectionate scratch as he's passing by the couch. Neither of them are expecting the startled moan that comes out of Bucky's mouth. Steve stares at him, shock plain on his face. "Did you like that? Do you want me to do it again?" Bucky nods, and then Steve's hands are running through his hair again, and it feels so good that Bucky can feel his eyes watering. He almost tries to stifle the tears because they're a weakness, but then he remembers what Sam and Steve have both told him—that tears are good, that they mean he's healing, that it's okay. So he lets himself cry, for the first time since he can really remember, he lets himself cry, and instead of a harsh command and a slap across the face, he gets Steve's warm fingers brushing over his cheeks and a soft, low voice asking if he's alright, if he needs anything. Bucky lifts his hands to cover Steve's, and directs them back into his hair. It feels a bit like coming home.

After that, Bucky is much more eager to receive Steve's touches, and Steve is eager to give them. They've fallen into the habit of watching movies on Steve's unbelievably comfortable couch, but now, instead of keeping a solid foot of space between them, Bucky tries out what it feels like to press himself up against Steve's side. It's wonderful, is what it is. Steve is warm and solid and secure and he smells like comfort. The soft, pleased noise he makes when Bucky curls against him is enough to prompt Bucky to snuggle closer. Steve's right arm wraps tenderly around Bucky's shoulders, and his hand bends back to curl through the hair at the nape of Bucky's neck. It's grounding in a way that no therapy Bucky has been to has yet achieved. Bucky doesn't really watch that movie. He's pretty sure Steve doesn't either. But that is the night that he learns that Steve is his home, his true north.

Bucky starts pushing after that night. He's curious how much more comfort Steve's body can offer him. Now that he's had a taste, he's realized how famished he is for it, how starved he was before. When he wakes up from a nightmare a week later (a silent one, thankfully), he considers how much better he would feel if he could be touching Steve right now. He slips out of his bed, out of his room, and into Steve's, into Steve's bed. Steve doesn't stir immediately—Bucky's still a master of stealth, he won't ever not be—but when Bucky slides close enough that his breath is ghosting over Steve's face, Steve awakes with a start. Bucky watches him closely, wondering if he's overstepped a boundary. But as soon as Steve recognizes him, he's relaxing again, sinking back down into the bed and reaching for Bucky. "Did you have a nightmare?" Bucky nods. "You can come closer—I'll keep you safe." Steve rolls onto his back and Bucky curls himself around Steve's torso. Steve's chest heaves briefly under Bucky's head, and then Steve's arms are curling around him as well. It's the safest Bucky's felt in his entire life. He falls asleep in seconds.

It becomes a habit, then. Bucky doesn't even bother using his own bed anymore. He always sleeps so much better in Steve's embrace, and the way Steve's face lights up when he wakes up to find Bucky still in his arms makes something in Bucky's chest hot and tight, in a delicious way he can't yet define.

The first time Steve kisses Bucky, he does it on accident. Or rather, he doesn't do it on purpose. It's a thoughtless thing, like a reflex. Bucky's sprawled out on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through his StarkPad (courtesy of Howard's son), when Steve arrives home with groceries. 

"You want grilled cheese for lunch, Buck?"

"Did you get tomato soup?"

"Yup."

"Then, yes."

Steve smiles, like that's exactly the response he was expecting, and Bucky smiles back. As he's passing the couch, Steve bends down to ghost a chaste kiss over Bucky's lips. "I'll get it started, then." He announces, striding into the kitchen like he didn't just turn Bucky's world upside-down.

Because kissing—Bucky hadn't even considered the possibility of kissing Steve, but now that he has, he can't stop. He's on his feet and in the kitchen before he even realizes it, and he finds Steve frozen mid-action, eyes wide and face pale. "Oh my god," Steve chokes out, cheeks flushing an unflattering shade of red. "Did I just—god, Bucky I'm sorry I have no fucking idea why I just—"

Bucky doesn't want to hear it. Bucky doesn't care if it doesn't involve getting another taste of Steve's mouth on his. He swallows Steve's surprised yelp easily, lets his hands come up to bracket Steve's face, ensuring he stays there. Then Steve is melting against him, arms curling around him and pulling them flush against each other and Bucky sighs happily, right into Steve's mouth, because this, _this_. This is pleasure. This is comfort. This is _home_.

When Steve takes him to bed with kisses and intent, Bucky lets himself get lost in it. The relinquishing of control is almost as euphoric as the rest of the experience. Afterwards, when they are curled together, naked between Steve's sheets, Bucky cries. He'd forgotten his body could feel this good, this sated, this _loved_. Steve holds him like he understands, and his fingers card tenderly through Bucky's hair.

After that, there are no more boundaries. Bucky has no hesitation anymore. He sprawls contentedly across Steve's lap on the couch, curls against Steve's chest in bed, plasters himself against Steve's back in the kitchen. Steve returns all of his touches with a kind of joyous enthusiasm that never fails to bring a smile to Bucky's lips. He pulls Bucky closer, kisses him sweeter, makes him better. He picks Bucky up like he weighs no more than the air they breathe—like it's effortless to wrap his hands around Bucky's thighs and hoist him up around his waist. Bucky loves it. It makes him throw his head back and laugh, arms curling around Steve's neck, legs wrapping around Steve's waist, and his breath hitches every time Steve takes advantage of his joy and kisses down the column of his neck. Steve will sway them around the room, like they're dancing, and Bucky will lay his head on Steve's shoulder and close his eyes, like they're dancing. Sometimes Steve holds him for so long and sways him so gently that Bucky doesn't even realize he's drifted off until he feels Steve lowering him into their bed, and then he's curled around Steve once again.

Steve's touch is his anchor, his comfort when the nights are long and the days are dark. And the day Steve offers him a simple, finger-sized, platinum band of metal, Bucky realizes that maybe he's Steve's anchor too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr at buckyybae if you're interested


End file.
